Character List

Synneschal


Name: Synneschal “Synne” Creed (Sin-Ess-Kull Kreed)
Age: 25 (frozen)
Race: Human/Nagual
Gender: Male.
Weight: 200 lbs.
Height: 5’ 7’’
Eyes: Golden.
Hair: Brown.

Appearance: Very sturdy-looking, depite his average height and build. His golden eyes glimmer warmly as if kissed by the sun. His hair, a curly, yet somehow stable russet style, accentuates his handsome face, which is stubbled with the hair of a five o’clock shadow. A rough cape of albino hide serves him well, while a plain, brown shirt serves as an underlayer. On both forearms are two bracelets that have metal attachments folding back past his elbows; these attachments are technological marvels: the Kinesse, iron knuckles that he can fold over his own in order to absorb kinetic energy. As for abnormal features, on each temple of his head, there is a small black patch shape that shows his brain has been equipped with cybernetics.

Sand Magic: A little-known style of magic that requires intense concentration, Synne simply draws his sack of sand from his belt and tosses it. The particles then disperse in midair completely, and when the opponent tries to strike Synn, the sand particles coalesce in that spot, taking the impact of the attack into itself. He can create sandstorms harsh enough to wear through skin, or erode stone or metal. He learned he was capable of controlling sand long ago, but he dismissed it as a Nagual trait, not knowing it was something far more, which has yet to be revealed.

Skyboard: Strapped to his back is a small, silvery gadget that can be extended to serve as a type of “hoverboard,” to put it simply. It holds the ability to carry it’s rider through time’s flow. This is a prototype, and prolonged use may least to a severe halt in biological aging.

Weapon: The Kinese (Ken-es-sae) Twin iron knuckles that fold against his forearm and are connected to his bracelets on his arms, these runic weapons have the ability to absorb kinetic energy and disperse it. For example, Synne could stop a punch by hitting it with the Kinese, and the energy of the blow would move into him, but he would not be harmed. Instead, he would store the power in his weapon, until he received enough, and then release it in the form of a blow. He is incredibly skilled at using these weapons. Any and all physical movement can be halted by these tools. Also installed in the bracelet components are runes that release a gravity reducing field when willed to.

Armour: None.

Strengths: Close quarters combat is his specialty, but he’s impressive in just about every statistic, due to his cybernetically enhanced body.

Weakness: Water attacks dampen his sand, making it useless, and he isn’t used to distance attacks. Also, I know this isn't really a weakness, but he's dyslexic.

Personality: Calm and reserved, Synneschal lives a lonely existence, even though he would never go so far as to admit it. He enjoys goofing off now and then, but for the most part his mind is focused on whatever pressing issue might be at hand, like where he will sleep for the night. Usually upright before relaxed and stern before smiling, he knows how to make the most of his time, being alive for such a long time. However, he isn’t cold, and is very chivalrous for such a hardened warrior.

History: In the world of Nexus, at the end of the Adamantine Era, Synneschal was born into a confused, desert world of high technology and primitivism. Many families lived in tents, or caves, if they were lucky enough. Luckier still would they be if they caught sight of gleaming metal somewhere adrift in the churning sands. These things were called “Hod’Bakrie Sahin,” or “tools of Gods.” The history of the world seemed to be known by none, not even the elders. Synne’s parents raised him as best they could, despite the harsh conditions. None of the inhabitants of this world could have guessed that the sand particles in this world carried a substance that caused a disease similar to Alzheimer’s, and that the reason the ones that should remember the past don’t because they didn’t wear sand masks back then, because they had yet to be discovered. Synne’s people, which are extremely fertile, have a 1 in 3 chance of giving birth to a Nagual. These are humans that eventually gain the ability to assume both a hawk form and an anthropomorphic hawk form. Why these children are born is a mystery, just like the technological gadgets scattered far across the land.

When Synne turned sixteen, his father promised him a gift for reaching manhood. When he did not return from the sandy wasteland, Synne searched for him. Eventually he caught sight of a human shape, smothered in sand. When Synne turned him over, knowing tragically what he would see, he saw the lifeless form of his father, holding a strange, circular object with a gleaming silver surface. A treasure. After mourning, he took the gadget, and experimented with it. Two panels on one side could slide outward, revealing two soft, jellylike pads that vaguely resembled human feet. Synne, naturally, put his feet there. As he did, the machine whirred to life, and metal rings clasped around his ankles and wrists, magnetically insuring his ride to be a safe one. The mechanism then hovered off of the sandy ground, and took off, moving left, right, up, down and any direction he pleased. He soared for the rest of the day, and when he came to a stop that first time, he had tears in his eyes. His father had given him the best gift of his entire life.

While living with the saddened widow that his mother had become, Synneschal was miserable. His caretaker carried a cheerless aura that destroyed whatever joy he might have accumulated while “skyboarding” that day, as he called it. After hearing her moan, groan, and whine for about two years, he had had enough. He yelled at her. That was an amazing thing, because Synne was usually the most courteous, polite, and silent boy anyone would ever meet. He demanded that she move on, and stop ruining his life. He said he had lost a father, but he didn’t mope around the tent, waiting to die. Just as he finished his rant, he felt his vocal cords melt, his bones beginning to crack and change, and his sight blur. He was a Nagual. A bird man. He screeched, and left the domicile in a hurry, a trail of feathers left in his wake. He knew Nagual lived on the other side of the great wall, and that only their wings could normally carry them, but he had yet to grow wings yet. He decided to use his skyboard. He was going to leave everything behind. However, something was different about his contraption. He had nudged the side of the thing by accident, and a small panel had slid open at the head of the board, releasing a square beam of light that projected a translucent blue panel.When the rings were once again holding his body tightly and his feet were secure again, the panel became solid.

Not sure what to do, he noticed the buttons were topped with shapes. After thinking for a moment, he recalled seeing four of the shapes before. They were on the other side of the skyboard. He typed them in the exact order he had seen them, and then pulled his hands back. A murderous silence filled his ears, and he felt like he was imploding. When the light in the sky started flickering and everything blurred, he thought he was dead. When he opened his eyes again, he was in an entire building filled with silver equipment. Hovering around the room on his board, he was curious to where he was. Eventually, he encountered people. They were stunned by his bestial appearance, and studied him. He was an organism never kept in the record books, yet he rode a board that had just been invented that very day.

Another thing was his biological structure. Every human had a cybernetic chip planted in their brain, so why did this being not possess one? They had no idea that this particular skyboard possessed the ability to time-travel. Synne was simply perplexed, and didn’t know what was going on himself, so he couldn’t tell them, either. They gave him a special type of cybernetic implants throughout his body, a kind that would morph along with his shiftable body, increase his strength, etc.

So, after the agreed amount of time of experimentation, Synne was given in payment an elite-class experiment that was already dumped by the military because it was too expensive to make. The Kinesse.

After receiving the weapons, Synneschal wanted to know about the creator of the skyboard. The scientists actually said that the man had disappeared, supposedly angry about the mass-production of his invention after the military had forced him to sell the rights to it. They did direct him to his lab, however, and Synne broke in, using his new weapons, searching for the man who could maybe tell him a way to get back to his mother, so he could apologize.

He found nothing but an assortment of notes regarding the hovering machine that he called the H3-0342 Lark. The true name of the Skyboard, but Synne liked his own name choice much better. So, after scouring the place, Synne found a pad of paper containing tons of rows of those shapes, and one of them just might lead back home.

He’s travelled through tons of time periods of his world, and every one of was astonishingly different. Because he’s been on the board too long, his age froze at a handsome 25. He has practically given up on finding his original time, and merely seeks adventure in the different “whens” of Nexus.

Saint

Name: Saint Sorren

Age: Looks about 29…?

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Hair: Turquoise

Eyes: Black w/ white flecks

Weight: 170 lbs.

Height: 5’ 7’’

Appearance: With a slightly slim build, average height and weight, feathery turquoise hair that hangs just as far as his shoulders in layers that point spikily down, his lack of eyebrows and strangely sympathetic eyes make him an unforgettable face. He wears a zipped, brown leather coat a lot of the time, as well as leather gloves and black boots. Two necklaces, one featuring an askance cross and the other a tiny mirror, adorn his neck. Every last one of his fingers bears a silver band.

Weapon:

Aelphius- A white axe, of bizarre design, serrated with notches along the edge of one side. It is a key in a cosmic event that has yet to occur, and may have another function that has yet to be seen. The soul of Saint’s predecessor lives inside of it, and maintains it’s power.

Chain- Coiled at one side of his coat, is a white chain with spiked links, with a single, round, glistening stone at each end. When he wields it, he holds it by the center of it’s length, causing it to drag along the ground, slinking along the ground and making a rather disconcerting noise. Within the hollow black stone is a guiding beacons for the dead. Also, it cannot be broken, so it can be used to bludgeon enemies.

Strengths: His spiritual power is his greatest asset. The restless souls of the dead are his volunteering army, doing as he says out of their own free will. Unlike most humans, they can sense a kinship in Saint that relates directly to his spiritual prowess. He can appear anywhere Vivaeum forms, making it his number one choice of transportation. He has been trained vigorously, undergone torment by former warrior spirits that most mortal men would have cowered before, and would not have survived. He is an efficient warrior by all means, and never shows off.

Weaknesses: If he is damaged, his focus on a spirit lessens, making them weaker than normal. Also, physical blows have a more likely change of damaging him, because magic tends to weaken around his presence.

Skills/Magic:

Conjure- Calling forth a restless spirit of one who died in the nearby area, Saint can ask them to lend him their power. Because there are many different kinds of ghosts, combat with Saint can be unpredictable. Within him lies something not of the physical world, which allows him to tap into these paranormal energies. He can also call upon Vivaeum, the astral river that flows through worlds, defying time and place, or become phantasmic himself, for a period of time.

Personality: Melancholy, but not lamenting, Saint is very much like a phantom. He wanders places, his presence almost unnoticed by all around him. He is the caretaker and counselor of restless spirits, and has more sympathy for them than any living person. He fears nothing, as he is very well acquainted with death’s design, and he has a stern moral code. Weeping quietly after hearing a ghost’s sad tale is nothing new to him. A good man, or an evil man, in some eyes. He has an eye-for-an-eye philosophy.

Biography: Saint Sorren was a child born of the rivers of time, and life, just as any other child was. However, his mother had not lain with a man preceding his birth. Therefore, he was a miracle over miracles. But a miracle to some is a threat to others. Especially if the hand of fear has a cold grip on their hearts. Knowing this, she kept it a secret.

Young Saint, even considering the way he came into existence, was an extraordinary child. He was known by the other children in his village as "empty-headed" due to his constant meditative tendencies. No one had taught him how. He walked to the temple of his village one day, and saw a statue, it's grey eyes staring, looking right through him. He thought, "How wise is this man of stone, that he remains steady, and peaceful, while foolish men run rampant, destroying, killing, and bringing ruin upon themselves? I want to be like this man."

Saint was also known for his odd appearance. While the other children looked like normal children do, Saint's eyes were the deepest, most poignant black, flecked with the lights of stars. The eyes of a saint, which spurred his mother to give him his name. As for other interesting traits, his eyebrows were smooth and bare, and his hair was a feathery turquoise.
No matter how perfect a person's life may be for a while, disaster always strikes. When Saint was old enough to carry on conversation, people eventually gathered the courage to speak to him. He became liked by the children who once never accepted him. He never treated another child as if one was better than another, and was never rude to those that may have been rude to him, upon first introduction. He was patient.

As Saint reached the age where he could work to support his mother, he was assigned the responsibility of fetching water whenever it was needed, from the river within the forest to the north. He went whenever he was told, and his mother praised him. It was a long walk to the stream, but Saint looked forward to it, because he would find a respite in the cool water from the seemingly terminal state of the world around him. People became sick, or died. A new war was raging in the west. He found consistency in the stream.
More tasks were assigned to Saint, and he also did them without complaint. What better thing did he have to do than help his dear mother? However, that first task, of retrieving water, brought him more than he bargained for. When walking home, carrying the vase in his strong, youthful arms, a stranger appeared, knocking him from his feet, and gripped him by an arm, holding him off of the ground. With another rough palm, he covered Saint's mouth.

"A heathen...fancy that. Let me see your hand, boy. Say nothing, or I'll decorate my robes in your ashes." Saint, never having dealt with a person so forceful, held out his hand to the man, in hopes that when he saw what he wanted, he would leave. Then, the man did something which defied all nature of things he had ever seen. He released his grip on Saint, yet he still felt the man's hand on his arm, and he was suspended in the air. The man put a finger to the back of Saint's palm, and his jagged fingernail dug into it, and Saint gasped in pain. The man made a disgusted hissing sound, not exactly snake-like, but not exactly man-like, either.
"Yes...your blood gives it all away...." He said this with a laugh, as though he were jesting, and slammed his fist against the side of the boy's head. While he was unconscious, he had a vision of a flowing river. Not at all like the one he fetched water from. This water was white, the most beautiful shade you could imagine water to be, and at the same time, sparklingly translucent.

Saint awoke to a dark cell, facing his mother, in her simple white dress, which was now torn raggedly at the shoulder. Crimson dribbled from the corner of her mouth, and tears were thick in her eyes. She held her shaking hands out to him, and he embraced her until the darkness was pierced by a rectangular beam of faint moonlight.

"Bring forth the sinning wench and devil spawn." It was spoken in a low, heartless voice. That voice had came to him once before, and he recalled his unfinished trip from the river. Fear began to rise in his chest. This violent man, he had fists like rock! Saint's head throbbed constantly, and the pain was excruciating. When the cell door was open, he was pried from his mother, and the two were taken outside, where the townfolk stood, as a sea of flickering lanterns.

“People of Azos! Look now, with righteous eye, upon the consort and progeny of the great demon!" They were indeed gazing upon both Saint and his mother, as wretched as they now looked. Saint felt shame creep over him for the first time.
"They practice witchcraft! See you not what the boy does, staring into space for hours at a time?" Saint was shocked. How did this man, who he had never seen in his life, know what he occupied his time with?
"Why he's casting spells! Have you noticed the children who go missing, or the animals in your fields that drop dead without reason? He is the one to blame. He and his wench of a mother. Do any of you know the true father of this child? Have you ever seen him? It is because his father is not of mortal blood. She was given a child from perdition's very gates! Look upon the boy! Even his appearance is demonic! That color of hair is not natural. It is a perversion of God's creation! This wickedness must be stopped! If this deed is done, God will surely forgive you of all your unrepented transgressions! Carry them to the stakes!"

Soon, they were at the thin wooden crosses, with wood and pine-needles piled against them. Tied to them they were, and his mother screamed. She screamed until her voice was tainted by rising smoke, and coughs accompanied her agony. Saint said nothing. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he felt the rage of fire burn at his feet. His eyes, however, were locked on the man.
His middle-aged face scorned Saint. It must have been the smoke, because Saint saw more unexplainable things. the man's eyes melted away like wax, revealing flames identical to the ones that were licking his feet. His mouth was full of black, stony, jagged teeth, and smoke rose from the corners of his mouth. That was the last thing he saw, before the darkness of smoke and the red heat of flames broke his thoughts into fragments, which melted into nothingness.

But this was not the end. When the smell of charred human was in the air, Saint had two tears left on his lifeless face, despite the flames. They dropped, and when they struck the ground, a noise like two pealing bells filled the air. From nowhere, slivers of white rain, like icy veins fell from the sky in a ring around him, and snaked to his body, crossing the ash and rising up the stake, coating him and painting him. The townsfolk, wary of some new type of magic, backed away. The horrid man, however, was steadfast. Confusion and frustration lined his monstrous face. The face that none of the townfolk seemed to see.

"I see...So, your workings are greater than I expected, Darka."

The boy tore free of his seared bindings without effort, as his body glowed and was made whole again. He peered resolutely at the man, showing no signs of trama.

"You are mistaken.....That is not my name."

"Might as well be. He's right there with you."

"You...you killed my mother." He didn't know what else to say.

"Yes, I did. It's a crying shame she had to give birth to a Devil's child. I had her killed, just in case she popped another demon out, so to speak."

"I've never felt real anger before...I can hear my mother calling for you, she hates you.”

"She's probably calling from Hell, kid."

Saint gritted his teeth, and waved a hand out to his mother's corpse, not daring to look upon it. He knew not what he was doing; it only felt right. Suddenly, her smoldering body emitted a ghostly inferno, and an apparition of her stepped out of the fire, it's face contorted in rage. Her phantom solidified, and a second later, her fingers were deep claws in the man's neck. Flames spewed from the wounds, but the ghost felt it not. She was tearing at him, strong and ruthless, until he howled like the beast that he was and dissipated into thin air.

With that, her ghost halted, and turned to her son. He looked at her, tentative at first, but eventually embraced her again. Even in death, their love would last. However, he knew she could not stay in that world anymore, and gently told her. He cried, and she did too, in the way that ghosts do. He told her he would be fine, and that he could care for himself; thanks to her, that was. And she was touched by those words. Her remains were carried by the wind.

The folk of Azos were already long-gone after this point, and it was just as well. Saint had no desire to speak or concern himself with those weak-minded, controllable fools. His heart led him to the forests to the north, and when he reached a river, it was the one from his visions. The white river. As he stepped in, he was swallowed in it, escaping from the world around him.

Xay

Name: Xaythamewt “Xay” Naught
Hexite Rank: Knowledge
Age: 20
Race: Nephilim
Gender: Male
Weight: 160 lbs.
Height: 6' 1''
Eyes: Blue w/ green

Appearance:

Weapon:

Blasphemy- The white, vein-traced growth on his shoulder can be ripped free of his body. It then becomes a blade. The long blade features a curved indentation that serves to disarm foes, and gives the general impression of a wing. The sword is named Blasphemy.

Zenbiel- Xay's guardian, a very wicked-looking, vein traced, and insectile creature. The head, torso, and arms of the creature are all like a mantis, while it's legs sprout from it's back and chest, like some sort of spindly spider's legs. The legs come down from as high as just below it's chest, which is plated, like the rest of it, in silvery-black exoskeleton. The folded claws, trademark of the mantis, serve as it's main weapons, but from it's back, a long, thick, segmented tail, tipped with a crimson barb, serves as a very deadly alternative. Two antennae, the same color of the guardian, jut unevenly from it's head like curved devil's horns. This creature cannot die as long as Xaythamewt exists, because he can continue to recreate it with his mental power. Zenbiel never speaks, and feeds on neural tissue. To most, he is considered frightening, and is usually crouching, in a black robe. Super-strength is it's greatest asset. It can also become a vine-like ornament that Xay wears underneath his clothing, over his bare flesh.

Armour: Most projectiles and attacks are greeted with a concentrated layer of his own cell tissue. This will not stop all attacks, but should sufficiently protect him from damage to a certain degree. Zenbiel, being his guardian, should also be taken into account.

Ivordian- This is a manifestation of pure nothingness that materializes in Xay's hand at will. It is a shield only he can grip, and it defends in a very unique way; if an opponent strikes at Xay's face, and he manages to block it with Ivordian, the enemy's weapon will go through the shield, but it won't hit Xay on the other side. It's like a portable hole, for dodging attacks. However, it's not that large, so it can't absorb attacks that span wider than it, thus making the solid edges of it work like a normal shield.


Skills:

Psychic Power- A master of mental power, Xay possesses the ability of gyrokinesis, as well as telekinesis, and cryokinesis. His talent in all three is exceptional.

Gyrokinesis (Mental control of gravity)
Telekinesis (Mental control over the movement of matter)
Thermokinesis (Mental ability to absorb, or decrease heat in matter, but he prefers freezing things.)

Unify- When an enemy can no longer fight, Xaythamewt grips them by their face, and robs them of their conscious essence. Basically, their minds and souls are stolen as strange fluid he refers to simply as Elixir. According to Xay's words, this is the only way for life to be permanently saved, from both itself and inevitable death.

Infect- A skill possessed both by Xay and his Hexian guardian Zenbiel, it allows him to genetically mutate any organism he robs the “Elixir” from. This type of mutation varies from person to person.

Strength: Psychic skills and a guardian being make him a formidable opponent. Regenerative skills are moderate.

Weakness: His skin is by no means invincible, and he carries almost no armor, aside from Zenbiel in ornamental form, and his shield. Also, darkness magic tends to make him unstable, which partially makes his lose regard for his own safety, but also makes him ruthless.

Personality: Ruthless, selfless, and determined are words that describe his personality. He has his mind set on an absolute goal, and he seeks it, by whatever means necessary. He believes himself to be the messiah of mankind, so he will not look at himself from a sinister point of view. In his mind, he is doing the right thing.

History: Xaythamewt Naught was a Nephilim born from a mother reconstructed from the very last molecule after her death during the great flood which eradicated almost all of mankind many centuries ago. After his mother was resurrected, she was taken into a great living void, a sentient darkness called Volra, subservient to a greater force known only as the Hex. The mother’s pregnancy was accelerated, until the child was born. Xaythamewt Naught he was christened, as he was born from nothing. However, before she gave birth to him, she was implanted with something called a Hexion. A symbiotic organism which was a remnant of a God known as Hex. When Xaythamewt had lost usefulness for his mother, she became part of the inifinite void that was Volra, an avatar for vast and eternal space. Xaythamewt’s title was that of Hexite, and his power were based on his innermost desire. One, to feed a craving for living knowledge. He would devour minds and souls to satisfy this. However, his mind grew so strong that he became able to manipulate the movement, gravity, and thermal energy of matter.

Xay’s twisted delusion is that he is to be God of all sentient life, becoming one with it, in mind and soul, discarding all other physical bodies aside from his own. He wants to literally be the universe in which all living things reside, and control it, without challenge.

Until he locates the other two Hexite senior to him, he will be clueless to his true identity among the ranks of superbeings in the universe.

He has taken hundreds upon hundreds of Elixirs now, and grows even stronger, bringing "salvation" to any soul willing to face him. None have been able to stop him yet, and it will take a miracle to destroy him now. It's always interesting to see him fight, and he only does it when his victims don't willingly submit to his "rescue," forcing them into his mental world where all is his creation.

He recently stole the Elixir from a man named Oake Apyrion who had a son named Abraxas, after a long struggle with a vampire named Adrien. Once the Elixir was taken, Adrien escaped with the boy, who was infected by Zenbiel’s mutagenic mark, to a place that remains unknown to Xaythamewt. Wherever it is, doors to it can spawn from anywhere, and Xay won’t be content until that boy is reunited with his father.

Zeke

Name: Zeke Vabalak

Hexite Rank Strength

Age: 45

Race: Former Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Light Red

Eyes: Light Brown

Weight: 200 lbs.

Height: 5’ 11’’

Weapon: None.

Armor: None.

Strengths: His physical power is freakish, to put it lightly. His normal body weight is 200 lbs., but somehow he can pack up to 500 lbs. worth of damage in his physical strikes. His defense is also decent.

Weakness: He isn’t very fast, because he is overly-confident, and he tends to give his opponents time to retaliate, making the kill all the more thrilling. He also has a fear of water.

Skills/Magic: His main skill is his ability to create frightening or comforting distortions in how people perceive what is going on around them. When he has chosen someone as his prey, however, he doesn’t hide himself. For example, one time he confronted a teenage boy on a city bus, and ripped him apart with his parents right in front of him. Fortunately, they didn’t actually see it because Zeke used his distortion technique to “see” their son sitting right next to them, with no Zeke present at all. They only noticed he was gone when they got off of the bus.

His secondary skill is to undergo a tremendous transformation in terms of size and visual appearance, and the fact he bleeds molten lava.

Appearance: At first glance, he has the face of a kind, middle-aged man, and many people find him to be a rather pleasant individual. That is, until you realize what he truly is. When he parts his lips to speak, he reveals his sickening teeth, which are like thin black sickles that cling like rock formations on the diseased purple of his gums. When he smiles, the flesh behind his eyebrows bend to reduce his brown eyes into cruel slits that seem to be on fire inside. Thin trails of smoke rise from each corner of his mouth, and his hair is nothing more than a light red covering of red sprigs of follicles. He usually wears a sunhat to cover his hair problem. His clothing can vary, but his face remains the same.

Personality: He considers himself a hunter of all living things, for both sport and nourishment. Every single part of a human’s body is edible to him, so he eats often, but his stomach never truly gets full, because his insides are an incinerator of unholy fire. He takes pride in every kill he makes, and regards all living things as “useless garbage that is just going to get stale anyway. Better to eat them now while they’re fresh.” His origin is an enigma, but he somehow gained immense powers some time long ago.

Biography: As it began to rain, an old man walked at a brisk pace through the city he had been living in for at least forty years. The man was about eighty, and he was rather frail-looking, with rheumy eyes and a wrinkled nose that poked out of the hood of the jacket he had so sloppily put on while exiting the hospital. They weren’t going to tie him down to a bed for months, hell no. He had gone to war for these people, and they thought a little blood in the phlegm was enough to lock him away? No sir. He wouldn’t stand for it. He only had so much time to live; why would he waste it there?

As his old brown shoes messily splattered in the water building up on the cracked concrete, he realized something: his house was five miles from here. There was only one thing he could do to get home without breaking his back out here on this slippery rock or exhausting himself. He needed to call his wife…No, she would send him back. What kind of world was it that he couldn’t even trust his own wife? Ridiculous. But, he supposed he could still call his neighbor, Ralph, and let things unroll. He was getting very sick of this rain now. After walking one more block through the dreary city, he caught sight of a pay phone. A solace from the rain and growing storm, as well as a place to call his folks. When he finally stepped into the booth, he closed the sliding glass door in front of him, but not before a loud noise caught his ear. He looked to his right, and long horizontal scratches were etched into the glass.

Don’t freak out. Those could have been there when you got here, he lied to himself, knowing good and well those marks were just made.

Someone was outside.

There was another noise then, a constant steady motion recognizable as bipedal footsteps. Whoever they were, they were taking their sweet time. The thick rain blanketed his view almost completely, and he was shaking with both fear and cold. Three puddles of his jacket’s accumulated rain converged at his feet. The footsteps were getting closer. Suddenly, the hook suspending the phone snapped loose and even though he hadn’t paid it, it quickly switched to an open line. The long drone coming from it was unbearable. The wet old man in the black jacket tried for what seemed years to put the phone back up, but then the hook snapped completely off and struck the booth’s floor. He looked at the phone’s receiver for a long while, and then started slamming it into the dial, his mind rushing through a plethora of different ways to stop that damn buzzing.

The door clicked, and the old geezer slowly turned to see who it was, ready for the worst. Who he had been so frightened of was a man, about middle aged, wearing a red sweater and a black sunhat. He seemed gentlemanly enough, despite his odd clothing choice.

“Sir, I’ve been pacing outside for a good ten minutes. Are you done with the phone?”

The old man looked at him blankly for a split-second, then turned his eyes to the hanging receiver. He picked it up, and heard the voice of the Operator, that weird, almost sexy voice that told him he should try again, or some **** like that. He turned back to the man in the sun hat. The man was now looking a little irritated, and almost looked like a different person. He was smoking a cigarette, obviously. A wisp of smoke came out like dragon’s steam from the corner of his mouth, and when he saw the old man looking at him, he smiled back.

That was when the voices came. The operator’s recurring message seemed to drone out, and separated into three different pitches. Almost harmonically, they chanted in the old man’s ear.

“He is in all worlds, he is in all times, he is in all worlds, he is in all times…”

And that was when he felt immense heat sear across his neck, and sweat trickled down his back. He turned, and that was when the black fangs dug into his forehead, shattering the structure of his skull and dug into his warm brain, frying it while yellow and red splattered against the sectioned glass and the rain slowly came to a stop outside.

Dimension I Characters

[Maximilian Heruka]
[Zolf Kadreen]
[Konjiro Ilangr]
[Solomon Delgado]
[Zone Takajima]
[Vector Takajima]
[Axis Takajima]
[Synne Creed]
[Ja'gan Ender]
[Shade Lazarus]
[Ovirian Kadreen]
[Saint Sorren]
[Xaythamewt Naught]
[Zeke Valabak]
[Ashram Lioner]
Dimension II Characters

Coming soon...Be patient...

Where can I create a character?

Name: Vyn Valin

Title/callsign/nickname/etc.: Tormented Ash

Age: Around 650

Species/Race: Dvunrae / Vampire / Demon

Sex: Male

Weight: 135 lb.

Height: 6' 2"

Strengths: Vyn is fast. He is strong. Passionate. His precision is deadly, as well as his agility. The wings on his back do allow flight.

Weaknesses: Vyn is very hesitant, although not in battle. His swordsmanship is not great at all, nor is his defensive ability. His robe is very thin, and he cannot cast spells fast. Flying takes a bit of stamina, depending on the duration of flight.

Weapons: His weapons are two swords, both named Phoenix Blood. The first weapon is called Ω-Positive. The second one is Ω-Negative. They are hidden within his mass of his featherlike robe. These are the blades and their hilts.

Armor: His robe is a part of him, and the feathers on the robe are somewhat thin. They could stop any normal arrows, but not much else. It is also full of heavy enchantments, such as ones that make it reflect any forms of fire magic and its ability to thicken itself.

Personality: Dark, dreary. Evil. Destructive, and just a tad sadistic. Almost insane, although he's very timid.

Accessories: An amulet around his neck is the most powerful artifact he holds. It wields the power of fire, allowing him to conjure and control flame as well as banish it. It also allows him to become reborn if he is ever killed. The whereabouts and time it takes to rise once more are completely random.

Appearance: Here.
Or, here.

Skills/Magic:
Phoenix Aura: A passive aura that shines red against him. It enigmatically follows him around, and increases his reflexes and celerity.

(His swords activate Omega magic)

Positive Attacks

Physical
Omega Positive - Ratiocinate: Vyn's skin pulsates purple; Any one physical attack that hits Vyn completely reflects back 200%. This fatigues him only a fraction, but takes awhile to cast.
Omega Positive - Preserve: Vyn casts Ratiocinate on another object.
Omega Positive - Convalesce: Heals Vyn's wounds. Takes up quite a bit of energy.
Omega Positive - Conveyance: Vyn instantly transports himself from one coordinate to another. This barely takes any time to cast, and it does not make him any more fatigued than he already is.

Elemental
Omega Positive - Imbibe: Vyn's skin pulsates green; Any one elemental attack that hits Vyn is completely absorbed and held into his amulet and released when Vyn wishes at 200% efficacy. This fatigues him as much as Ratiocinate.
Omega Positive - Traversion: For a moment, Vyn has complete resistance to all elemental attacks. Pretty much the same as Imbibe and Ratiocinate, fatigue and cast time wise.
Omega Positive - Gratify: An elemental enchantment, be it flame, frost, poison...Envelopes either or both of his blades. This can be done instantly, but takes a little bit of energy.

Negative Attacks

Physical
Omega Negative - Dilatate: Decreases the overall speed of the enemy by magic. This takes some energy to perform. The more energy used, the slower the enemy becomes.
Omega Negative - Aggrandize: Either one of Vyn's swords, or both, shoot their blades out forward. Rather, they enlarge to impale the enemy. This works with Gratify on, but not with Imbibe or Ratiocinate. This takes some fatigue.
Omega Negative - Triturate: Increases the amount of gravity being pushed down on the opponent. The amount of fatigue it takes to perform this spell depends on how much the gravity is increased.

Elemental
Omega Negative - Fusillade: Vyn's amulet, after taking in an elemental attack from the effects of Imbibe, can change the elemental property of the attack and launch it in a much more powerful form, 600% more powerful than Imbibe's counterspell. This, although is much stronger than Imbibe, takes alot more energy.
Omega Negative - Incandesce: Like a flashbang, Vyn explodes with a sharp sound and a bright light. (Note: He doesn't literally explode.) This barely adds any fatigue, but takes a few seconds to perform.
Omega Negative - Ferment: Immolates the enemy by setting him on fire with Vyn's own will.. This can be used from a distance, and requires a small fraction of energy to perform.

Biography: During the war of Dunkar, vampires vs. dvunrae, Vyn Valin was turned into a vampire. The war raged on for centuries, and during those centuries Vyn was part of a secret experiment being conducted by the vampire lords. They were fusing his DNA with that of a phoenix's. The experiment was completely flawless, and when it was tested, it worked as flawlessly. The experiment gave him wings, a feathery cloak, and blood red skin, as well as birdlike eyes. Where he got his demonic powers was in Hell, against his own will.

The Demigod Nushi, of Pain, found Vyn himself. His breed was quite..Original. A dark elf with birdlike features that had been a vampire for centuries. Nushi banished Vyn to Hell to see how he could cope. After meeting Trang, the god of demons and vampires, he infused him with demonic powers. Powers exactly like Nushi's. Instead of just fleeing Hell, he slew Nushi and absorbed his power. Then, after awhile, he met someone he could not defeat; Varimathras. Another vampiric Dark Elf.

Varimathras took him in as his only apprentice. He became chief captain of Varimathras's army of rogue dark elves. Varimathras trained him, taught him everything he knew. About swords, about vampirism, about demonology, anything and everything he knew was transferred to Vyn.

Because when Varimathras died in the Four's revenge, Vyn would take over.

Vyn and Varimathras, though, kept on travelling the world.

Name: Skyru

Age: 11

Race: Kokiri/Dragon

Gender: Male

Hair: The hair has three large long spikes heading towards the left, and one short spike towards the right. His hair is a vivid shade of light brown.

Eyes: He has a deep and sparkling medium blue shade eyes.

Weight: 36kg

Height: 1.62 metres tall

Theme songs:

General: Grow up
Battle: Dragon Ball Z battle remix
Important battle: One winged angel

Weapon: Dragon Wing: A Completely red blade, with many sharp extra points, and triforces encrypted on these areas. It has the ability to control fire and light as an element.

Strengths: Can fly with his one wing, and breathes fire, and even shoots beams of light. He can defend himself by using his wing as a shield as well. His head is also rock hard and he can resist all levels of heat.
His unusual emotion cause him to be completely uninhibited and does not hold back his power for emotional reasons.

Weakness: Is utterly unprotected against hammers, and are a complete hzarard.
He is also light framed, making him easy to knock around. And he cannot recover from finishing combos easily.
If his hair is pulled, it is excrutiatingly painful due to his long hair. He is weker in the cold as he is better in heat. If his wing is wet, it is inactive, the element ice is his weakness.

Skills/Magic: ( Down below)

Neon Blaze/ Glows in light, which also burns like fire and dashes like a meteor right into the opponent.

Rapid Purge/ rapidly shoots orbs of light in every direction, out of the weapon which lasts for roughly 10 seconds. And it harms all that they collide with.

Blaziria/ Launches a thick and wide beam of fire forward out of his sword and continues for as long as the user’s energy can keep up, it incinerates all along it’s way

Ultima Arrow/ after using Dragon morph In order to get a Bow, The neon Arrow Blizzard Arrow and Blaze Arrow fuse into one light arrow, which is even more powerful, and also absorbs energy around it, and after charging enough, fires at light speed, extending to far reaches, and is so powerful, may even harm the user.

Dragon Morph/ The Dragon wing weapon can transform into one of the following: Fire Bow, Dragon wing guitar, Dragon Boomerang, Dragon Shield, Dragon Hammer( Used with caution), Blaze Arrow, Blizzard and Neon arrow and Into another wing.

Songs: These songs are played on the Dragon wing guitar:

Melody of Morphing: Telaports away on dragon wings.
Dragon's Ballad: The song that represents dragons

Appearance: Ok, I have already described Hair and eyes and sword in other sections, so I’ll get straight to the point. He has quite a large Mouth with sharp crunching teeth. He wears a short sleeve blue Jacket that has Zippers across the stomach vertically and horizontally and right on the sleeve. He also has red markings in various areas. He wears Shorts with Zippers across the thighs and underneath a red zigzag on both sides.

He also has short cut open gauntlets on both hands, a huge red dragon wing on his right side. And for shoes, he wears royal ugg boots, which are yellow at the bottom rim, and the top rims, and they are marked with the triforce. He also has shoulder pads of iron steel. His garb is rather complicated, so here is a picture.



Personality: He is heroic, brave, yet unusually childish. Most of the time he is in a cheerful disposition. He fears little, so he usually runs into danger without hesitation, however he is not completely oblivious, and usually speaks his mind and is always honest. He is quite innocent, but he can comprehend older emotions such as peer pressure and romance yet he neglects these emotions, due to his hybrid of breeds making him lack in certain emotional aspects.

He would usually answer “I don’t do couple stuff.” Or “Nah, I stay single” If ever asked out. As he is usually outgoing and does not hide his true feelings, no matter how much trouble it gets him into. If insulted, he would usually resort to violence, as he has an unusually intense hatred of those who bully the weak and helpless. So he will always take heroic action if somebody was in danger.

He neglects affection, and pushes it away no matter what the circumstance. He is also quite violent if confronted menacingly. He is also quite carefree and does not think very far into the future. Unless in battle. He is determined and completes whatever he puts his mind too. And never gives up. He is also even more determined to practice on his guitar and train for battle and practices daily everywhere around Hyrule.

He is also friendly around friends, but loathing of enemies. He forgives those truly sincere and sorry. He cares deeply about friends, and puts them before all.

Biography: (Here I will write the history of Skyru and how he came to be.)

It was a day of extreme brightness at roughly noon.
Death Mountain was gradually becoming uneasy, by at least 7, the mountain could be heard from Hyrule field, and by 11:24 it rang out the entire Hyrule and shook Hyrule as well.

Suddenly by midnight, a giant tower of lava rose from the Volcano. When the lava cleared, a baby floated by dragon wings, it hovered down gracefully. Darmunia climbed the mountain as he was obligated to examine the sight due to the fact that he was leader.

However when he reached the top, the dragon child was fast asleep yet it’s wings were still flapping, Surprisingly the child already had a full head of hair. And he was slightly floating in mid-air as his wings were still flapping.

Suddenly, the wings flew him down towards the temple of time and he just phased through the barrier straight into the realm of time. Rauru extended knowing this child was the one born in flames, and to summon light.

“Ah! This is the long awaited Skyru.”
The child’s left wing was slowly fading away from it’s joint, and soon became floating pixels. These pixels then became the Blade the Dragon Wing.

The Master sword from its pedestal faded and was replaced by the dragon wing.
“Hmmm… The Master Sword will only return once Skyru has drawn the Dragon Wing. Then the hero of time’s journey can begin.” This child shan’t travel through time though.

“He will remember this, once he has reached a suitable age, and awakes from a 10 year slumber.” Rauru faded away into the darkness.

10 Years later

Slowly Skyru awoke, he found that he was in clothes.( The ones described beforehand.)
“Rauru” Skyru muttered.” Where are you?”
Rauru showed himself.
Skyru knew what he had to do.

“Wait Skyru, when you have drawn this sword, the Dragon Wing, you will leave the realm of time. If you are to re-enter, be aware you will be in an alternate dimension. A hide-away, you can live there. But it won’t activate until the sword is drawn.”

Skyru began. “What… what is my purpose?”
Rauru replied.” You will find out as you go along. Travel to the Kokiri forest, you belong there. You are part Kokiri as well as dragon.”

Skyru had now fully awoken and had a childish grin on his face, “So I’m super! I am like a cool missing link!”
“Yes, simply remain there for a year, and when you are 11 and can age no longer, your destiny will unfold.” Rauru replied.

“Ciao!” Skyru remarked with a smile, and he drew the sword.

1 Year later in Kokiri Forest

Skyru was awoken by other Kokiri.
“Happy Birthday!” They yelled!
Skyru smiled.” Yeah! It’s time for my destiny to unfold!”
Skyru was greeted by a red fairy! “Hi I am Zaiku! I am your fairy now…”

Skyru replied “Cool! Do you by any chance be the one who hold my destiny?”
It nodded and signalled Skyru to follow.

At the temple of time

“What happens now?” Skyru asked
“That home you were told about…” The realm leads you not there anymore.
But to a battle school! You must train to become a great hero.”
“YEAH!!!” Skyru exclaimed echoing out the temple. He and Zaiku ran forward and dashed into the portal.

my first one

Name:San-Roc

Age:18

Race: Dinofose

Sex:Male

Hair:None

Eyes:His Eyes are human-ish , Pale Blue with slitted puples.

Weight:458 lbs. 46g.

Hight:9' 11"

Weapon:A mace made from the backbone of a Stegasarus,the Skull of a Trisratops, the wings of a Pterasaur, ant the tail of a Broncieasaurus. It has the ability to summon lightening.

Armor:a tatered loincloth

Strengths: Despite his apperance and his weight, he is very fast. This leads most of his opponets to let down their guard down.

Weaknesses:he can not swim very well, and sinks in deep water. When he goes into primal mode he uses up his energy very quickly.

Skills/Magic:Asguard's Wrath(magic):A large thunder bolt homes in on the target. It may also paralize the target for aproximately 30 seconds.
Boshudio(skill):His target is attacked by a barrage of attacks(mostly jabs and diagonal cuts)
Brainjack(magic):For a short time the target is under San-Roc's control.
Razutenchi(magic):Flaming, thunder charged boulders are hurled at the enemy. This causes the ground to liquify and an electricity charged energy ball blows them away.
Primal:His morality is lost and he turns into a rampaging animal. It lasts for 65 minutes.

Apperance:A large lizard like, bipedal Huminoid. His feet are three toed claws. His legs are like that of a chicken(they bend backwards).he has a long tail that is mostly used as a third leg. he has two long arms that go down to his knees and his hands have two fingers,and a thumb, all with claws. He has a long neck and a Skink like head, with a horned crest along the base of his skull. He is covered with scales that are all Forest Green.

Personality:He is laid back and he is friendly, but when he gets mad he can turn into a beast. He lives to bring back his lost loved one. When ever she is mentioned he goes into a deep sorrow.

Bio:He was born into a small Dinofous tribe in the eastern Desert. His parents were eaten, because they were thought traitoruos. He was taught by a stranger called Creig. He taught him everything. Then his mentor just disappeared .San-Roc was 16. He then went on a journy to find him. One day, while oon his journy he heard of a comotion in the village, it seemed that the chief's daughter was missing. The monster licked his lips at a chance of a meal, so he went looking for her. He found her in the forest, lost, scared, and confused. Then he made his presence known. as he advances upon her he could smell her fear. As he was about to consume her, he hezitated. She was curled into a ball, with her hand over her head. Then he got a look at her face. Full of beauty it was. And THEN, he got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it away an continued to advance upon her, but the feeling came back, this time stronger than before. He was startled by this feeling. Suddenly she looked up and stared. He suddenly had the urge to stroke her face. As he reached forward his hand she flinched. Hesitating for a moment, he reached for her face and stoked it. "Soft" he murmered. Withdrawing his hand he looked at it. "While I am cold and hard". He then picked her up and took her back to the village. She returned the next day, and the day after that, until he waited for her to come. For many years this went on, until, on day she did not come. Asuming something was wrong, he went to check on her. When he reached the village he saw a horrid sight. the village was burnt to the ground. Rummaging through the debris, he found her body and held it close to him. So he honed his skills and, he now hopes to Link, so he can help him find the temple of the Gods so he can wish for his love's life back. Continuing on, San-Roc reached the country of Hyrule. there he met a nomad named Geo, who was searching for his brother, Creig. San-Roc filled him in on who him mentor was and promised Geo, if he found Creig he would bring him to Geo. San-Roc is still seaching for Creig and Link.

Brom:
(Note: This is not the Brom from the 'Eragon' book series.)
------------
Name: Brom (Unknown)

Age: 1267 years. (Has a look of a 49 year old man.)

Race: Mostly Human, but has some elf. (That is why he is so old.)

Gender: Male

Height: 6'.5"

Weight: 180lbs.

Eyes: Gray.


Weapons: Brom, carries the a Sniper's Bow. He also has a sturdy sword that is weak to the heat. He has a few throwing daggers that he uses for short ranged run aways.

Strengths: One, Of Broms powers coms from his memories of a dear loved one. It was not a wife nor son or daughter. It was a girl. He had deep feelings for her. Yet, she did not know that. Her name was 'Amesrie'. Soon after he had asked her for marriage she was slaughtered by the 'Fierce', a large race that are like Orcs, but with tusks that can be up to two feet. After, Brom found out about her death, Well, we'll get into that in the 'Background' section. Brom also gets a Strength from the Snow. Each snow, he could gain more energy; he could run a great distance. Something about it made him stronger.

Weaknesses: A weakness. Something that Brom tried to fight off but couldn't. He cannot go within a mile from the Village...She...Was killed at. He also has a weakness of smoke. Inlike, Other people, If smoke got into Broms lungs, It wouldn't Just kill him. First it could send off a scent that the 'Fierce' can detect from a length of seven miles. As said in the 'Weapons' his sword is weaker in the heat of lava or any other heat that over passes the heat of Daylight.

Companions: Brom, has a Squirrel Monkey named 'Ralph' He does not fight, but keeps Brom company.

Personality: Ahh, The personality is where Brom is most secretive. His personality alone like. He may something you find funny, but he will say it with not even the slightest grin. He lives alone, (Besides of Ralph.) and has no problem mocking anybody, Kings, even Lords and Emperors! That is all I can give of Brom, for the rest is for me and Brom to know...

Armors: Brom does not wear 'Mail' or any heavy armor. He is wears only cloth and leather, hides of animals and wool are one of his choices too.
His tunic is the 'Tunic of the dreftine' (Dreftine are boar raptor animals.) His pants are the 'Leggings of the war bat' (Which is a large bat, used in wars mostly.) His gauntlets are the 'Gauntlets of the Eagle' And his boots, the 'Thick boots of the mountain cougar'.

Magic: Ahh, magic is just a hard to say as Broms personality. His magic is from the elves. For example 'Brisingr!' (Just a Coincidence, from the book 'Eragon') Means fire. Allowing Brom to shoot fire and or make fire. 'Resl tinth resah' Means 'Roots from the tree' which allows Brom to strangle-hang-and pull under enemies if they are nearby a tree. He uses the words from the elven tribes, to use as Powers. Rock is 'Treadits ' etc.

Background: Well, Brom is the son of 'Jusar' (Slight elf) and 'Cassy' both murdered. When he found out that his beloved was murdered. He went on a hunt for the 'Fierce'. He found there camp, watching them rip away at the meat of humans. He was greatly disturbed. He got to the rim of the camp and hid himself behind the tents. He opened a tent with no 'Fierce' in it. He examined around and found the necklace of his beloved. A tear poured down his eye. He grew the rage and whispered violently "Brisngr." The camp caught on fire and the Fierce took notice. Their screams and howls were loud but Brom ignored all of it, he slashed away at all of the 'Fierce' he killed all of them, all left with a detached head. Blood dripped off the end of his sword, And his chin. He took the necklace out of his pocket and cried with grief. Brom, was born in the land of 'Envilmär" a elven and human land. It spread Far across the maps. As a boy he dreamed of flying, he had a nag for making new things. He also was in love with Story's of the gnomes, Dwarfs, elves. He was trained by a Elder of the elf tribe. 'Her' name was 'Massa' she was very old. Her courage and trust in Brom made her believe he could bring Envilmär to piece from the 'Fierce'. As Brom grew old he moved to a town called 'Thesslewind' it was a small town right outside of a bigger one, There he took up selling potions he made with his high Alchemy skills. He didn't get much money but he was fine with the way he was living. Brom is secretive person. So thats his biography.

Bow/Sword Skills: Broms sword skills are fast, he was one of the fastest, he could twirl his Blade within two seconds. His sharp sniping skills with his Bow we're as good as his master, He could hit a fly from even A hundred feet away! Hmm...He's just extremely good at sword and bow.

Appearance: Coming soon...

Mount: Broms Mount. Has been with him ever since he was a child. His name is 'Rec' It is a Ram. A Very large Ram only found in the snow mountains of 'Des Freuse'.
It's Appearance: It's size and look is this, Here. But it's color is this,
Here.


Alchemy Potions:
Potion of The Lions Strength-(Increaces
Energy by 25%)-Potion Of The Water Breathing-(Increaces
breath holding for an additional 40sec.)-Potion of the Living-(Heals target's health 50%)-Potion of Respite-(Revives
Target filling 50% of additional health.)-

Herbalism Journal-
This.
Details: This book helps Brom identify herbs, It is a thick book that he keeps in his pack.


Accessories: Brom, he has a medium size pack that he keeps his potions, Herbs, Journals, Gold silver and copper crowns. He also has a pare of Extra gloves, The same kind. And of course, his 'Quiver'.

------------------
------------------



Fin.

Name: Blades

Age: 2,018 years old

Race: Gerudo

Sex: Male

Eyes: All white

Weight: 353 pounds

Height: 6' 3"

Weapon: An old sword which glows with a dark shadow with evil in it. It can slash a diagonal line that will cut anything for the most ten feet.

Armor: Blades has a Gerudo like armor. It is in the colors red and black making him look powerful. He wields a Hylian shield as well.

Strenghts: Has very good sword skills and since he's big he is also powerful. He knows black magic and knows secrets from the Gerudo tribes that give him the upper hand, like sword fighting.

Weakness: Since he is very heavy that makes him slow and he is vulnerable to long ranged attacks since hes also slow. Blades likes to think he's the best and no one can defeat him which makes him vulnerable to surprise attacks.

Skills/ Magic: The Black magic is magic which contains electricity that can paralyze someone but it takes ten seconds to charge up. It only paralyzes for a couple of seconds.

Appearance: Has a similar oufit to that of a Gerudo male. Blades has no shirt but a shoulder armor like a Gerudo male except that the shoulder ends are pointy. His armor is black with red designs. His hair is red as that of a Gerudo. He has the same boots and gloves of that of Ganondorf. Blades has an image of the triforce on his forehead (a tattoo). He has a very muscular body.

Personality: Blades is very arrogant and that would be a weakness as well. He believes he is all mighty and powerful which causes him to be vanished from the face of earth for 2,000 years. He is wise and for that reason he is smart enough to escape hell and make his return to Gerudo desert and and to continue his conquest of overruling Hyrule.

Biography: Blades grew up in a desert as the only male at the time. After his birth his father died without a trace or a clue of how he died. His mother then a year after his birth was killed by soldiers as she tried to steal bread from the Castle Town market to feed his child. Blades was an only child and was brought up by warrior women. He was very abusive and strong willed. When he became and adult at the age of eighteen he set out his quest to overule and destroy hyrule as a way to avenge his mother. Blades was now a happy man as he had overruled the overpowering current tribe and was planning to build a Temple he though he could defy the Gods. He was sent to the pits of hell but he managed to escape 2,000 years later. Now out and about he was ready to finish what he sought out for. Blades actually thought he was a God himself.... could this be his demise???

Name: Marcus (Mark)

Age: 3042

Race: Human is the most common form Marcus assumes but his race is unknown

Sex: Male

Hair: Silvery white thick hair falls messily to eye length

Eyes: Vivid purple iris with a black reflectionless (not a word but I like it) pupil

Weight: 140 lbs

Height: 5.6”

Weapon(s):Two Silver semi-automatic pistols are his most commonly used weapons, he also conceals other…sharp things…

Strengths: Mark’s aura and appearance tend to petrify his combatant to such an extent he or she may not even be able to fight. He has incredible power over the dark and moves at blinding speed.

Weakness: Due to the nature of Mark’s unholy existence his only weaknesses are light magick (I feel so cool I spelled it with a k) and substantial quantities of Holy Water.

Skills/Magic:

Shapeshift: Mark can easily shift from one form to another, unfortunately when he shifts into anything other than a wolf, his power is limited to the power of that creature. His favored form is that of a wolf, varying from beige to black.

Enchant: Marcus is rarely seen with an unenchanted weapon. Even his pistols fire enchanted bullets, most commonly the enchantment is only fear, strengthening the power his Illusions hold over the opponent. Less commonly, his enchanted weapons have been known to disorientate and even turn the enemy against his allies or himself.

The Horror: When an opponent looks directly into Marcus' eyes, he can cause the opponent to hallucinate. He most enjoys playing games pretending to be a loved one in his opponents life. Also, Marcus can put the enemy through what seems to be endless agony while not even touching him or her.

Embrace Darkness: When fighting at night or in dark conditions Mark can dissapear into the shadows with ease, reappearing at almost any dark place. Time still effects this spell and the distance Mark can travel while in the shadows is limited to the laws of physics. (Totally not ripped from Hellsing)

Soul Tear: Marcus has been witnessed finishing his opponents in a horrifying manner. When his enemy is mortally or seriously wounded, Marcus' has been known to shapeshift into a wolf and lunge through his enemy dragging only the soul with him as it dissapears into nothingness.

Appearance: Marcus has silver hair and vivid purple eyes. Despite his age he looks only twenty. He has a pallid complexion and is unnaturally slight and short. He almost always wears rimless rectangular purple sunglasses. Despite his size, his smile strikes fear into most who look at him. Mark always wears white. He adorns White jeans and and shirt and occasionally wears a white cloak.

Personality: Living for over 3000 years Mark has long since lost faith in humanity, he believes in nothing but the present and has an overwhelming bloodlust. Marcus very rarely befriends an individual unless it benefits him or his morals (which are twisted at best). Surprisingly, he doesn’t like to kill, only to wound but he won’t hesitate to do what is necessary for his survival, and will enjoy doing it.

Biography: Being born before Christ, Mark experienced the evolution of the world and watched as man’s civilization advanced technologically and declined morally. He was born in Ancient Egypt, born being a term used relatively loosely. It would be more accurate to say he woke up in the middle of a desert, with the same appearance he has today. He was widely regarded by the Egyptians as a god, and therefore went about making a head piece. After accepting donations in gold from the Egyptian people, he forged a mask that vaguely resembled a dog. Despite how hot it got in the summer, Mark wore it just to keep his image. Over time Marcus learned he was truly immortal and lost all pleasure in life, without the need for water or food Marcus traveled across the world settling in Jerusalem. Marcus watched the crucifixion of Jesus (whether or not he was the son of god) and throughout time he continued to watch the great kings and all the great wars. Marcus became a monitor of sorts, evening the odds when evil began to prevail. Soon though, he became disgusted with life and the very essence of mankind. Marcus no longer fights for good, only his kind appearance remains, although his eyes have faded. With Marcus’ moral compass in pieces and his rage at the world overwhelming he curses his immortality and wishes only to die. He searches for a fighter worthy of his defeat, worthy to set Marcus free. But that warrior has not emerged and Marcus grows more and more impatient, and more powerful. He has become a master of the unholy and a lord of the dark. He waits in agony for his freedom.

Name: Sapphire

Age: 20

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Hair: Long (think mid torso), reddish brown, slightly wavy hair. Its usually pulled back into a single braid, but for special occasions she may get creative with it.

Eyes: Light brown/hazel

Weight: 140 lbs.

Height: 5’4”

Weapon: a wooden, but silver plated, bo-staff (often disguised as a walking stick), two hidden knives (backup and throwing only). Her Bo staff is about 5' high, reaching to around her shoulders. It's thin, around and inch in diameter, and slightly pointed on both ends. Her two knives are twins, and uncharactistically plain, just a brown leather wrapped handle and an unadorned, but sharp, 6 inch blade.

Strengths: Sapphire’s physical strength lies in her deft hands, speed and flexibility. She has very fast reflexes with her bo-staff. She excels at mid-range combat (swords, bo staffs, etc), but get in too close and she’s in trouble. She's also a quick thinker on her feet and a fast learner. She was taught to analyze her opponent's every move and test every aspect of him (or her) until she finds a weakness she can exploit. At times, especially if he opponent is male, she'll attempt to sweet talk him out of fighting at all. More than once would be challengers have ended up buying her a drink at a nearby bar instead. Personality wise, her strength draws from her independence. Long ago she learned to fend for herself, and she never lets herself feel tied down or obligated for anyone but herself. This is what allows her to wander and live a life on the edge.

Weakness: Sapphire main weakness is money. She will do anything to get some extra cash. She particualarly can't resist jeweled or gold jewelery. She is also quite vain, too many compliments will switch her from fight mode to flirt mode. Physically, and as I stated before, close combat is a problem for her. She owns two knives, but doesn’t know how to use them in hand to hand combat. She needs room to maneuver both herself and her bo staff. She wears light armour, if any at all, so if any strong hit lands on her, its basically over. As a human, she obviously has no apparent defense against magic or spells. However, and some consider this a weakness unto itself, this lack of defense does not stop her from either battling or attempting to con a magician. Frail and young as she is, she considers herself unvincible, unbeatable, and unconquerable, as not many men have been either resist her charms (read below), and certainly no one has ever claimed her heart (not to say it won't happen eventually though).

Skills/Magic: None

Appearance: Sapphire has plain, but lovely features. However she knows how to play up these “boring” features she was given, and its not uncommon for her to be sporting several rings and trinkets given to her by hopeful and admiring men. Her thick, wavy brown hair, parted slightly to the left side, is usually woven into a single loose braid that she loves to drape over her right shoulder. Although, she will wear is down or in some other creative fashion when not in battle (or flight for that manner…). Her everyday dresses is usually an “expensive”, or at the very least expensive looking, low-cut dress or travel ensemble. The traveling ensemble, which she uses for both traveling and battle, she wears dark brown leather knee-length boots, thin brown pants (tucked into the boots) so tight you may as well call them leggings or tights, and a long (just above the knee) sleeve-less sky blue tunic with a slit up the left side and gold embroidered seams. If the weather is either cold or rainy she often wears a grey, floor length, hooded cloak fastened at her neck with a sliver brooch in the shape of a feather. She always completes her look with various jeweled rings, hair fixtures, and necklaces.

Personality: Quite frankly, Sapphire’s a snob. She grew up in a wealthy family, and only by circumstances which I’ll cover in the Biography section has she “lowered” herself to a life of traveling and crime. Her true love is money, and she loves to take advantage of men. She lures them in, captivates them, takes their money and various gifts to her, and runs. She’ll do almost anything for money. She steals all her expensive clothing and jewels from either the men she cons or wealthy mansions she manages to break into. She often disguises herself as a traveling dancer or singer, learns the layout of the town or city she has arrives to, then in the night after her “performance” at the local inn or bar she takes what she can find of worth and saunters from the scene. She has learned how to deceive and lie so much so its almost an art form. She looks down on most others and sees them as pawns to do her bidding, but if you prove your worth to her she will respect you and stand by you whenever you may need her. Maybe even free of charge…

Biography: As I stated earlier, Sapphire was born to a wealthy merchant. For 10 years she was the baby of the family, and anything she asked for was handed to her on a silver platter. However, a few days after her 10th birthday her mother found she was pregnant again. Suddenly, she wasn’t a first priority for anyone anymore. For the next few months her resentment for her family and their lack of attention grew. She began to throw tantrum after tantrum. In her ten year old mind, she was still the queen of the household. It grew so bad that her father had had enough. That summer he sent Sapphire off to military school. She soon learned the hard way that the world did not revolve around her. For the next 6 years she lived at the military school, and not a day went by that she did not curse her family for sending her from the lap of luxury to the harsh life of the school. Learning quickly not to lash out her anger upon her instructors or schoolmates, she focused her anger into her training with the Bo staff. At age 16 her instructors had taught her everything they knew in the art of wielding a bo-staff, and rather than take up a new weapon she left. She wandered the world, stealing first only for food, but as time went on she hungered not only for sustenance such as food or drink, but for the life of luxury she had left behind so many years ago. As she matured into a beautiful young woman, she quickly learned the right charms and airs to lure men in and capture their heart. She waited patiently while they showered her with gifts, and after a month or so, she stole what she could from them before fleeing the city. It became a way of life for her, her independence has never allowed her to fall for any of her victims. Whenever she needed to lay low for a time, or just wanted to sharpen up on her fighting skills, she’d hire herself out as a mercenary, doing everything from robbing to fighting on the frontlines of various religious wars that seem to plague every world. Now, having amassed a small fortune, she wanders around looking for either more money, or just some fun.

Sorry about not posting here earlier, I forgot to...

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Beware, it's long.

Name: Amira

Age: Approximately 130, although because of her race, she appears to be about 18.

Race: Elf

Sex: Female

Hair: Bright yet natural red, usually pulled back in tight braid starting mid-way down her back. Her hair is long and by long, it is about waist length (it reaches her waist)

Eyes: Bright green.

Weight: 110 pounds

Height: 5’8 (five foot 8 inches).

Weapon: Amira usually wields a long sword, approximately two and a half feet long with a hilt of about six inches . This sword emits a blue aura. Because of Amira’s talents, she knows exactly where the sword is at all times. Another of her weapons includes a mahogany bow enlaced with gold and adorned in rubies and emeralds. The arrows she uses are also made of mahogany, although she can also form arrows out of air or water through her advanced talent of telekinesis

Armor: Nothing, except for a telekinetic shield Amira can summon, although it drains her energy at an amazing rate.

Strengths: Water. Whenever Amira is near a water source, she can regain her energy. Another of her strengths is her home area of Aphinia. Aphinia is an enormous country mostly covered a magic wood in which Amira was born. When in Aphinia, Amira can use telekinesis without it draining energy. Some of her talents include telekinesis, swordsmanship, and archery. Along with the other previously stated talents, Amira is also quite skilled at the art of horseback riding. When riding her horse, Amira becomes stronger at telekinesis because of the fact that her and her horse can mix both of their telekinetic powers together.

Weakness: Amira has many, many weaknesses, some of which are to be listed below. She is not able to use her magic close to fire. She is also not skilled at physical battles (fist-fighting). Because of this, she refrains from physical conflicts as much as possible. Also, if her horse Epiphany is murdered, Amira dies too. The last of the many quick deaths that can befall Amira is if the necklace bestowed upon her neck is removed when outside of Aphinia. In a way, it is her life-source, as well as her people’s life source. Therefore, if you were to remove any of her people’s necklaces, they would die immediately, if and only IF they happened to be traveling outside of Aphinia. This crystal is a fragment of a gigantic crystal residing in Aphinia’s central town of Bea’ Armoire. This is mainly because of the diamonds that are inlaid in them. When sleeping, Amira is plagued by horrid memories of her childhood and now is trying to find answers behind the many secrets that ensue her dreamworld every night.

Skills/Magic: Amira has been bestowed with psychic/telekinetic powers. She can form objects out of just about anything, but is strongest when dealing with water and/or air. When using her powers, she can also change the form of plants such as trees. When near a water source, Amira can also tap into her healing powers.

Appearance: Amira has near-perfect facial features. Because of her race, she can live through many years without aging at all. Her hair goes down to her waist, as stated previously. On special occasions, Amira wears an intricate golden circlet adorned in emeralds and a long emerald or cream-colored gown with bright red and gold designs coming up from the bottom. When on trips through Aphinia, Amira wears either a cream-colored dress with an impenetrable layer of chain-mail beneath it, or a short green outfit of an emerald-colored cotton shirt and skirt reaching her mid-thigh with matching forest-green boots. On her delicate neck lies a golden necklace embedded with but one enormous pink diamond.

Personality: Amira is respectful with everyone she meets, as long as they return the favor and mean no harm. If they do mean any form of harm, then Amira would know it because of her psychic abilities.

When in a physical battle, Amira usually is the first to attack. Because of her poor physical ability, when it comes to fist-fighting, Amira does the most damage at the first punch, while the opponent does not know it. She also uses her telekinetic and psychic abilities to get the opponent off their guard (i.e. hallucinations, shifting the ground on which the opponent stands, changing the surrounding area to distract the opponent, etc.) She also uses the surrounding objects at her advantage (making roots come out of the ground and tangling the opponent’s feet, causing hail, forming a weapon out of any surrounding material, etc.)

Amira enjoys anything natural. When in Aphinia, Amira usually plays with the local wildlife. Although, the one thing she enjoys most is horseback riding. At her estate in Aphinia, she owns an enormous female white horse named Epiphany. This horse shares the same psychic abilities as Amira. When the two are together, one can lend their strength to the other, both being each other’s life source.

The last bit that shows who Amira is is what she stands for. One of the many things she stands for is peace and serenity. She believes that if her race can find some level of both again, then her beloved Aphinia may once again be livable, but alas, it has not. Because of this, Amira plans to travel and find a way that her race may become peaceful yet again.

Biography: Long ago, in an enormous marble temple, an elfin child was born. This temple resided in Aphinia’s capital of Bea’ Armoire. Her parents were the elfin king and queen of Aphinia, her birthplace. Their names were King Tyrium and Queen Genevieve. After giving birth, the queen named her baby Amira, after the mythological goddess that had created Aphinia long ago.

After Amira’s 40th birthday (approx. 5th birthday in our race), Amira started schooling. In Aphinia, schooling was free, but very different to what we know schooling to be like today. On top of extremely difficult math, language, etc., you would had to of learned about whatever talent that you had and advance in it. Aphinian boys and girls were completely sure of their talents at a very young age (mainly through odd dreams and, for instance if you were psychic, you would be able to read people’s minds, etc.), around their 20th birthdays. Therefore, Amira had started going to school with her talents is mind. These talents were telekinesis, horseback riding, archery, and swordsmanship. She advanced much quicker than anyone else her age.

At around her 65th birthday, she received a pony and named her Epiphany. Within the upcoming week, Amira also received a sword and bow. Of course, these aren’t the ones she carry today, but are the amateur’s equivalent.

After about fifteen more years of schooling (looking about the age of 15), she graduated and instead of going away and getting a job, she got private schooling, the human equivalent of college. This feat usually took a child of Amira’s age until their 90th birthday, but because of her advanced way of thinking, she graduated ten years before her fellow piers. If you were of Aphinian royalty, this was just expected of you and you HAD to attend or you were to be shunned. Amira attended, not because of her fear of being shunned, but because she wanted to. At this time, her schooling was far more intricate then anything a normal human being could possibly imagine. Your extra-curricular activities included what your talents were, and, in Amira’s case, they were telekinesis, horseback riding, archery, and swordsmanship like before.

During her final graduation ceremony around 20 years later, Amira was given the sword she uses today. This sword had (and still does) a blade emanating with a sapphire aura. This is because of the fact that because of her mother and father being royal, Amira received the traditional Aphinian Royal Sword. This sword was made of the finest Aphinian crystals, crystals only found in the deepest depths of Armedia Forest, a forbidden forest plagued by atrocious monsters that resemble ogres. Armedia Forest is only legally entered by the brave and talented men and women who hunt for the Aphinian crystals. Along with her sword, Amira received the bow, the necklace she now wears, and the skill of lending her telekinetic powers to Epiphany and vise-versa. With that necklace, she has the ability to travel out of Aphinia without dieing.

After the ceremony, Amira was sent away to the faraway land of Felavore to give word to the king and queen of a band of barbarians making their own land in Armedia. Felavore and Aphinia had started a peace-treaty long ago and when something dangerous or threatening came up close to either of them, a representative, usually the heir to the thrown, as a test of endurance and skill (only if he or she was of age), was sent to the other land to share the news. When a war erupted with either of them, the other land would help out. She was given plenty of rations and a scroll to present to the king and queen of Felavore.

After a year of traveling to Felavore and back, Amira had returned to her beloved land of Aphinia, although it was the same. Everyone seemed on edge and to not remember who she was. This was a very odd sight considering Amira was a well-respected princess and would one day claim the thrown of Aphinia. When she arrived in Bea’ Armoire, her home and center of Aphinia, her sense of something vile happening had gotten worse. The castle, her home, had become deserted and blood-stained. Upon entering, her worst fear had been revealed to be true: her mother and father were held in the dungeon below the castle. Something very bad had happened and it didn’t seem that her fellow inhabitants of Aphinia cared very much at all.

She went down the many stares into the cold, dank dungeon. Skeletons lined the walls. The smell of rotting corpses lingered heavy in the cold air. Kept in a cell, being beaten to death was her father. His clothes were but a bloody layer of clothing. The man/women (the gender could not be made out) who had just been killing her father, had turned at the sound of Amira screech. The thing lunged at her pulling her at her hair and clothes. Her father’s voice sounding tortured, yet wise joining Amira’s as they screamed for the thing to stop. As if it had understood what they said, it stopped, only to whack Amira’s head with a wooden and poorly made club. He/she then dragged Amira’s limp body down more steps and into a wet and pitch-black cell.

Upon awakening, Amira’s head was pounding. She was going in and out of consciousness. The hard cobblestone-flooring had apparently bruised her delicate limbs to the point of bleeding above the skin. She fell into a coma like sleep until hours later when the same thing (or was it?) that had attacked her previously unlocked the door to the cell. He then opened the door and walked away. Amira’s began to get up, only to be stopped by the pain in every body part of her body and the fact that there was a chain connecting her wrists to the stone walls. All she could do was stare at the open doorway. She then remember her abilities, but could not use them for the fear that it could drain the last of her strength away; killing her. The torches that not lined the walls only made the situation worse. While Amira was groggily assessing the situation, a tall man entered the cell. This man was not like the barbarian that attacked her, but somehow seemed more evil. His face had a much more sophisticated look than the thing that attacked her, his eyes piercing her with an enormous amount of hate and distaste.

“W-W- where am I..?” Amira mumbled.

“In the dungeon of your beloved castle, remember? Oh wait, you must have been knocked out by that Armedian, right… Well, you should feel lucky. Because of that, you don’t know what had happened to you in this very cell, isn’t that nice?” His hateful, yet satirical voice rang out in the dungeon, echoing off of every cobblestone lining the walls.

Huh?! What’s that supposed to mean?

The buzzing in her head made it hard to think.

“What do you want from me?!”

“I want our freedom back, that’s what.”

“W-W-what do you mean?” Her split lip pulsed with each quick heartbeat.

“It seems like you still don’t have the brilliant mind that I thought you had. You poor, poor thing you. Well, I’ll let you go, but only because I feel bad for you. No, the real reason why I am going to let you go is because I don’t need to keep you here. I can see you wherever you are. I can interrogate you whenever and wherever you are. I can torture you in the same way I had while you were sleeping, even if you are on the other side of the Earth. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He laughed a horrid bout of laughter at something that was not funny at all. At that moment, Amira noticed the forked tongue that would lick the air almost rhythmically. He nonchalantly walked up to her, muffling her screams with one slender hand.

“Did I say I was going to hurt you? No, I didn’t. Just be calm and I‘ll let you go.” His voice was now obtaining an irritated edge.

Amira took in a long breath through her nose and let it out. The evil man then released her mouth and pulled a key out from one of the deep pockets inside his cloak and unlocked the shackles attached to her wrists. At this point, Amira could finally get a good look at him. He wore a black cloak with a hood shadowing his features. His eyes seemed to be pure black. He had no eyebrows or eyelashes. The nose he was accursed with was large and beak-shaped.

He then turned around and walked out of the cell, only to turn and shoot a bolt of light into Amira’s face, forcing yet another scream out of her and putting her into another coma like sleep.

About a day later, the man from before showed up in the doorway to her cell and screeched. This unearthly sound awoke Amira. She shook her head, trying to clear her head, stood up…… and froze. In front of her stood that awful man, although his calm composure was gone, revealing his true personality. He trotted over to her fearful body and slapped her face.

“I though I told you that you were free?! NOW GO!!” Amira’s aching body somehow came up with the strength to move. She bolted out of the cell and down the hall. The cell that once held her father was now empty. She wondered if it were best if she stuck around to save her father, but the thoughts were dashed by another of the man’s foul screams. The stone steps seemed longer than they were before, but she made it to the top eventually.

As Amira reached the surface, she dashed to the castle exit and fled to Epiphany. At the sight of her master, she let out a short whinny and Amira climbed on her back. Epiphany was trained out of Bea’ Armoire and into “The Blessed Fountain”. This fountain had water of the finest and purest of all of Aphinia. It was also blessed. Amira got off of Epiphany and sat down in the fountain. She tapped into the healing powers welling inside of her and healed her many cuts and bruises. With her strength renewed, Amira’s spirits were much higher and she began to hum a lullaby to herself, despite her anything-but-happy frame of mind. She then made sure that she hadn’t lost any of her talents by forming a small model of Epiphany. She then got up, yawned, and tied Epiphany to a tree and set up a small camp. After undoing her bedroll, she laid down and was immediately asleep.

The next morning, Amira had planned to ride Epiphany to Felavore and tell the people there about the fate of her parents, the king and queen of Aphinia.

Months later, after arriving in Felavore, Amira had broken the news to the king and queen there. They had suggested that she travel outside of Aphinia, for her own safety. They had also reassured that they would take care of everything and would send for her when they had resolved the issue. Knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to help the situation if she disagreed, Amira promised to keep her nose out of it. She had decided to search for answers elsewhere, but had caught word of a tournament at somewhere called “The Dome”. Because of her hopes of somehow obtaining money if she won this, she decided to enter. The reward was not stated, but probably would be somewhat high and she needed that money to get the answers she needed, answers to the many question residing in her head. These questions regarded the fate of her mother and father, but more importantly, the fate of Aphinia and possibly the rest of the world.



Pronunciation Guide: Amira – Ameera, Epiphany- Epifany, Tyrium – Tearium, Genevieve – Jeniveeve, Aphinia – Afinia, Bea’ Armoire – Bay Armua (think.. French accent), Felavore - Felavor

Gold

Name: Gold Winter
named after his grandfather on his mother's side, Gold Oracle

Age: 22

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: Very dark brown, almost black curly hair

Eyes: Blue

Weight: About 175 pounds

Height: 6'1

Weapon: A long, double bladed axe with a spearhead extending from the end of the shaft. At the end a curved metal ornament, representing infinity. It has only the special properties of an excellently crafted weapon, including being strong and lightweight, plus being collapsible without a compromise in stability.

Armor: A steel band around his left arm, a chain mail vest underneath his shirt, and steel-plated boots.

Items/Equipment:
(3) Phial of Recovery - One-use magical cure for all your fatigue and stress. Relaxes target and will give user about 3 minutes of energy. Gold carries these on a cord hanging down his shirt from his neck.

(4) Coal Root - A common weed that, if cooked properly, will enhance the user's ability to use fire magic and the length that they can hold a fire spell. Gold carries these in a small paper bag tied to his belt.

(1) Backpack - weighs about 25.00 pounds, includes food and water for about 2 days, a small knife, a compass, some tinder for starting a fire, 8-9 wooden arrows, and a hatchet.

(1) Hunter's Bow - A bow strapped to Gold's back, Gold is admittadly a terrible shot and only keeps it for practice. He has improved a lot since he bought it but is still completely inproficient with a bow.

Strengths: Gifted with hand-to-hand combat and negotiation. Gold has an ability to get people to see things his way, due to his diplomacy training as a child. Being of noble birth also carries a lot of weight when dealing with people in his own country, because the Winter family is very well known and respected. He also can tell if someone who he is talking to is lying, and can see what somebody wants when he is talking to them.

Weakness: Right lung was punctured as a child; now he is short-winded and becomes tired quickly. This also means he cannot run very fast or far, although when fighting he has learned to pace himself if he does not need to use his full strength. Also, being used to people seeing things his way, he becomes very frustrated at being refused. He can't take no for an answer, and will get violent if he doesn't get what he wants. He cannot stand an absolute 'no'. Another thing is he hates high pitched noises and bright lights. He is very sensitive to a sensory overload. Also, he is a terrible aim. He has gotten accurate with fireballs, but any other projectiles will be a sure miss if he is behind them.

Skills/Magic:

Incindiary Arm - He has the ability to channel fire through his right arm. He can set his arm on fire, and from there he can fling fire and throw it small spheres. His arm does not burn off, obviously. He can hold it up for about 5 minutes, and also can use Coal Root to extend it indefinately. He requires a good 2 or 3 hours and possibly some food before he can do it again. Also, He needs about 10-15 seconds of uninterrupted concentration to ignite his arm initially. And, of course, anger generally speeds things up.

Eye of Judgement - With this ability Gold can see whether a person is lying or not. If they are lying, they will begin to sweat profusely while under this spell. Gold must make some physical contact with them for this to work. He simply touches them, by a handshake or hug, etc., and runs an incantation through his head, casting the spell on them. It will wear off in about 20 minutes.

Appearance: He is tall, dark with curly haired. He is strong and wears simple yet expensive clothing, with a steel armband that was his father's. He carries his axe in a box on his back. He has leather boots and carries a phial of a strange healing liquid.

Personality: Gold is calm and patient, and his very hard to disagree with. He does not, however, stand for the mistreatment of others and would not hold back anything if you were to harm someone unjustly. He does not believe in big government and trusts freedom. He wouldn't laugh or cry unless the circumstances demanded it.

Biography: He grew up as a nobleman in the East, where he recieved training in combat and diplomacy. However, at a young age he saw what oppression was doing to his country and left his family to join a terrorist organization to bring down the government. By 14, he had become third in command of the terrorists and helped in the invention of a destructive substance that would be used to destroy the capitol. Gunpowder. The assassinations of hundreds of corrupt government officials hadn't clicked to him yet, but the death caused by the terrorist movement finally sunk in. He left the terrorists and went West, hoping to escape the chaos. By the time he was 22, he had survived 3 years in the wild and was now a strong and great man. But he must decide if he should return, and what side to join when he does.

Family: He was born to a family of seven, with two brothers and two sisters. He was the youngest. His mother and older sister had died of Polio when he was 4. He left his family because they were part of the Government, and they were corrupt as well. His only close bond was his older sister (she was third youngest) who helped him to escape from his family. Her death at the bombing of the Capitol drove him to give up terrorism forever and leave the chaotic world of society.

Childhood: He had a top-of-the-line education, and also had a loving father and mother. His mother died, but after her loss little had changed. His parents had tried to indoctrinate him to believe that the lower social classes were inferior and deserved the abuse that they recieved. From his own experience he beleived otherwise, even at a young age. He had a loving sister, two abusive brothers and an oldest sister who died when he was young. He had few friends because of his noble birth, but learned to get along with people and negotiate all the same.

Beliefs: Like I said before, he is a strong beleif in freedom, and hates oppression. He is willing to kill for these beliefs.

Gold left home to escape all of the killing. He wanted to fight for the oppressed, but he found that the oppressed were as murderous as the rich. But he did not know about the goodness or honesty of the common class, because of his isolated childhood.

Gold will kill, but will not enjoy it.

Gold his in control. He is easy going but not easily manipulated. If he has his eye on a goal, he will not slack in pursuit of it.

Gold really, really like blond girls with blue eyes and cute smiles.

Gold has liked clouds ever since his mother sang to him about clouds when he was a baby.

Gold is polite and respectful, but not chatty. He has many friends and a lot of friends who would follow him anywhere.

Gold's dream is to build a society where the government is run by the common people and where people can keep what they earn, and the harder you work the better your life will be. And although he won't admit it, even to himself, deep down he wants to lead that society and to be the head of a nation.

Name: Konus (pronounced: Koe-nus)

Age: 24

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Hair: A deep brown, the color of wet dirt. It is very thick, and hangs down, about 4 inches long. It is in no way anime-ish.

Eyes: the same as his hair, wet dirt

Weight: Konus weighs about 300 pounds.

Height: Konus stands at around 6 feet and five inches.

Weapon: the Ultima sword, a weapon passed down for thousands of years in the Darkonian royal family. It was given to him by King Mcgee, after Konus helped him regain his thrown. The Sword is said to have once been wielded by a great warrior who worshipped the evil god Ultima. The warrior was rumored to have actually met the god, who allowed him to ascend from the world of mortals to that of the gods. The Ultima sword was left behind, sticking out of the ground at the spot where its wielder vanished. It is a beautiful sight to behold, with precious stones adorning a solid gold hilt. The blade is made of polished Darkonian steel, and measures about four feet in length.

Strengths: Well for one, strength. Most of his 300 pounds is pure muscle, which after being added with his determination makes him in a difficult opponent to defeat in a lock.

Skill is number two. Konus has been called the inventor of the long sword by the people of Darkon, who can think of no other explanation for his expertise with that weapon. He also created his own hand-to-hand style, which he calls Earthshaker.

Konus has survived all manner of natural disasters in his travels, and now looks upon elemental magic and sneers. More powerful spells have some effect on him, but he is still very resilient towards them.

Weaknesses: Due to his sword style, he tends to fair poorly against opponents wielding a spear or other weapons like it. He is also easy to mess with, (mentally) if you know the right place to mess. He tends to be overconfident as well, and wears little armor, causing blades to be extra-effective.

Special Skill: Golden Rage of the Tenkaitoshin- As his true power awakens; Konus becomes enveloped in a golden aura. He loses his consciousness, and his hair and eyes glow gold. Golden wings, sort of transparent, appear on his back. His strength becomes extraordinary, and he can now release mighty waves of energy. On the downside, he cannot think for himself in this form, driven only by instinct. It only happens when his life is in extreme danger.

Appearance: Konus is a strange sight to see, with his messy brown hair and large eyes. He has a perfectly chiseled face, and a short goatee shrouds his lightly out thrust chin. He wears no shirt, and enjoys showing off his bronzed chest. On his back, he wears a cape made from the skin of a great white bear. (no affiliation with my username, despite what you may think) On his legs he wears buckskin pants, and a pair of steel greaves cover his shins. He wears bearskin boots, made from the same white bear as his cape. He is a rippling mass of muscle, and wears his sword at his side.

Personality: Altogether jovial, despite the many lives he has taken. He can hold his beer far better than any other man, and loves a night at the local tavern. He is impossible to seduce, because he loves his wife Tally more than life itself.

Biography- Water. The soft sounds of water. Water was all it had heard, all it had felt, for as long as it could remember. Now sudden, sharp sounds, sounds other than those of being under water, were piercing its mind. The creature opened its eyes. It had lain suspended, in perfect sleep, perfect rest for so long. But now something was happening. It could see blurry shapes moving outside. Outside of what? It wondered. The creature reached out its hand and felt the smooth, clear, walls; walls that it quickly realized were meant as a prison. A strange and powerful urge came over it. It could not be imprisoned, would not be contained. It felt a sharp shock of pain which cleared its mind. Suddenly he could see, suddenly he could think. And, finally, he could feel. He felt the water, he saw the strange beings outside the walls, and he heard the sound of metal clashing on metal.

Another flash of pain pushed him far enough. He felt awesome power welling up inside of him, power which he could use to set himself free. Instinctively, he drew in the energy, basking in its golden power, and then, effortlessly threw it out from him. The clear walls fell before the awesome wave of pure energy, the water fell away, and he stood there, looking at his surroundings. Now however, he found himself dealing with a new problem. His instincts were taking over again. He was drawing in air, and something inside of him seemed to be inflating. He clawed at his chest, but it was to no avail. Then it started deflating, and the air rushed back out. He realized there was nothing he could do about it and moved on. He began to notice that the strange beings he had seen from inside his prison were now looking at him with a mixture of different expressions. He looked at his hand and saw that theirs looked just like it. They were bigger than him, but he saw younger versions of them that were his size, all among the crowd that had gathered around him.

Immense hatred welled up inside of him. He was one of them, but they had locked him up, he was sure of it! He felt the mighty power growing inside of him again, and again he released the mighty wave of energy. He obliterated everyone in his path, mowing down the beings like weeds. But one of them stood up after the wave had knocked it down. This one seemed different from the rest. Its eyes held an unholy glow, and on top of its bald head were many strange images. None of this mattered to the creature, however. The power was rolling off him in waves now, it was in him, and it was him. Looking at this defiant being with disgust, he clenched his fist, and his mind clenched over the being. He could hear the insides squishing as it cried out in pain. Then it stopped its crying, and he felt his power slip. The bald-headed being seemed be talking, and the creature understood. In a deep voice, the being said: “At last I have found you. Young as you are now, I will one day have great need of your power. Sleep now, so that it may grow.” The being waved its hand, and sleep came over the creature before he could even fight back.

A cold wind blew the gold and crimson leaves about, sending them towards the gray sky in a brilliant explosion of color. The fading sun was slowly sinking away for the night, and all the tired farmers were heading off to their favorite taverns. The towns all had their own inns, places where the velvet-dressed rich could go to empty their all too heavy pocketbooks. The inns had better food, quality wine, and lots of proper and sophisticated folk who said things like “jolly good” and “hmhmhmhm, do go on sir.” Konus hated places like that. All they talked about was money and business conglomerates. At the taverns, life was good. Until, that is, he became famous. Then people would always start asking him about this adventure, or that one. He retold his tales so often that he grew tired of them. Eventually, he began wearing a cloak to taverns, complete with a hood.
There was no doubt about it; he was definitely different from normal people. He had been found at the age of six in a fiercely burning village, unconscious and surrounded with dead bodies. Upon being questioned about the event, he could not even remember his name. He was raised in a village of people who acted strikingly similar to the people of ancient Gaul, with a deep respect for nature and a good mug of ale. At fourteen years of age, Konus killed a giant albino grizzly bear with his bare hands. He took it home and skinned it, then used the hide to make himself a pair of boots and a cape. Konus now wanders the land, unaware of the incredible power sleeping in his veins.

Name: Venter

Age: 68

Race: Human Mage

Sex: Male

Hair: Short pure white hair

Eyes: Silver-Grey

Weight: 180 lbs

Height: 5'11"

Weapon: Staff of Aikenvaer (Ache-en-vay-er), Wind God. The shaft looks like an ordinary walking stick, a white globe with a foggy effect inside sits on top. Grants Venter the ability to control wind more easily, he can control it with his mind alone, but it takes more energy to do so.

He is also equipped with an 8 inch hunting dagger (Handle made of Ivory)


Armor: A light weight, long white cloak with baggy hood. Has no special effect.


Strengths: The ability to take complete control of wind/air. When he is fully rested, with the help of his staff, he can create very powerful wind blasts (can easily lift/push heavy objects). Also, though he may be old, Venter has spectacular reaction time and agility on foot (even known for dodging close range projectiles (arrows) once or twice).


Weakness: Along with every other Wind Controller, his weakness is simply Earth attacks. Though his Wind Controlling abilities gave him the ability to lift Earth like objects (rocks / huge boulders, ect...) an Earth attack (a large chunk of Earth flying at high velocities towards him) can't be completely stopped, only slowed down.

Due to wielding the Staff of a Wind God, Earth attacks also induce more damage than any other.

Though he may be a tough target to hit, his recovery time is quite slow when an attack against him is successful

The more spells he uses in battle, the more exhausted he becomes, making large groups of foes difficult to defeat alone


Skills/Magic: - Wind Blast = When Venter is fully rested and wielding his Wind Staff, he can create powerful wind blasts capable of matching the destructive power of TNT.

- Minor Wind Blast = Usually used to knock enemies down/away from him, a short burst of powerful Wind will be projected from either Venter's Palm or Staff's White Orb.

- Wind Spear = A deadly Wind based magic attack. A glowing white spear will fire out of Venter's Palm/Staff Orb at phenomenal speeds. The spear is able to pierce some thin metals with ease, and will dent the finer metals. This spell can only be cast every 20 seconds.

- Wind Dart = A Wind based magic attack. A glowing white dart will fire out of Venter's Palm at a high speed. The dart is easy to aim (making it easy to aim for weak spots/vitals) and can be fired once every second. It cannot pierce any metals, though it will shatter wood.

- Call to the God = When engaged in battle, Venter can yell to the God of Wind, Aikenvaer. If the God accepts this request, Venter's Wind attacks can double in damage.


Appearance: As an older man, Venter has many creases in his face. His eyes are a faded silver-grey colour, almost giving the effect of blindness. His eyes are very serious looking as they hardly ever open more than half way. His nose is rather wide and its ridge rather thick. His lips are very dry and cracked due to age. To accompany his mouth he has a pure white five o’clock shadow beard. His hair is rather short – above the ears and his bangs end a centimeter above his white bushy eyebrows. No other skin is visible except his hands due to his long white mage cloak. His hands are slightly wrinkled and his fingernails short.

His white robe is very long as the back of it slightly drags along the ground behind him as he walks. The sleeves extend past his hands when his arms are by his side, and reach to half way up his hand when his arm is extended. The sleeves are also very wide. When he raises his arm the bottom of the cuff of the sleeve is six inches below his wrist. The cuffs are a darker silver-grey color, along with the trim that traces the bottom of the cloak.


Personality: In battle Venter is very experienced, so he remains calm even under tremendous pressure. He does not often panic.

In everyday life he enjoys reading manuscripts about the Gods and Ancient Lands, and does not like being disturbed by anyone unless it is urgent. He is a rather joyful man, but when angered he is known to snap and make strong physical attacks. He respects most people that he encounters except for people of whom he knows their history and is not at all impressed (former assassin, former theif, ect...). If someone was to insult him or his beliefs, he would kindly tell them to stop, if they don't he will inflict a large amount of pain upon the insulter.

He obviously believes in the Gods. Well, he believes in 4 Gods – Aikenvaer (Wind), Waavokranic (Water), Firovaer (Fire), and Eavnoah (Earth), though he only prays to Aikenvaer.


Biography: Venter, born in a small town by the name of Marlow lived with his parents . . . somewhat. His parents were hardly ever at home so he became accustomed to being alone. As an only child he usually found himself bored, until he came across one of his ancestor’s ancient book. Now captivated by this book, he spent most of his time reading it. The book had everything that seemed to interest him, information on Gods, Sacred Tablets, and Wars. Then he found it, the top of the page labeled “Ancient Mages of Marlow”. He quickly flipped through the pages, and then spotted the page that would change his life, a list of ancient spells. For the next few days he memorized as many of these spells as he could until he could recite them with ease. For years on end he practiced these spells in his cellar, ignoring anyone who knocked on the door. For the first few weeks of his practicing sessions, he couldn’t get one spell to work until he yelled the name of the Wind God. The God had obviously been watching Venter practice these spells for weeks on end, and made he decision that he was worthy enough to use Wind based magic attacks.

At first he was the happiest he had ever been in his life, but shortly after, just casting the spell wasn’t enough, he wanted to use them. For the first time in years, he stepped outside into the sunlight, the light beams burned his eyes, the warmth was unbearable, and the scents were profuse. No one in the town recognized him, and assumed he wasn’t from around there. He spent countless hours looking for something to cast his spells on, and around midnight, just when he was thinking about giving up, he heard a muffled scream coming from within an ally way. He crept in the shadows for a few minutes until he saw the source of the sound. A woman was being attacked by two men wearing bandit like outfits. Immediately Venter stepped out of the shadow into a candle lit area. One bandit spotted him and pointed him out to the other. They started walking slowly towards him. One bandit smiled and said “You shouldn’t be out so late little boy”. Venter just smirked. He raised his hand towards the first bandit. Both criminals stopped and looked at each other in confusion. Venter closed his eyes and envisioned a glowing dart. Suddenly a small white flash shot from his Palm. After a few seconds, a bandit said “What the hell was that? Hey, come on, let’s get this kid”. The second bandit remained still. The first bandit looked over, the other man was wide-eyed and his jaw dropped. A steady flow of blood soon started to drip out of his mouth. The bandit screamed loudly and began to run. He looked back at the young man, still standing still with his arm in the air, pointing at him. The last thing his brain registered was a bright white flash.

Ever since then, he has remained in Marlow. Now he is not known as the kid who had no friends, he is a well respected protector of Marlow and the surrounding area . . . he is the last Ancient Magic User.

http://www.zeldauniverse.net/forums/...56#post1231756

*Approved by Ranarath*

Name: Arin

Age: 27

Race: Human

Sex: ♂ (Male)

Hair: Blue, with his bangs comming down to in front of his ears. Think of Hinata's hair from Naruto.

Eye: Dark Blue mixed with green

Weight: 146 pounds

Hight: 5' 9"

Weapons: Two weapons. A sword he carries on his back with his jacket on and on the back of his belt with his jacket off. It has a red case with a blue/crystal engravement at the top that says ARIN. The blade is as long as a yard stick. there is a small gold plate between the blade and the handle. The handle is about eight inches long, wrapped in red cloth.

His other weapon is knid of like a gunblade, only the handle is shaped like an I. On the top right side of the I is a three foot long blade just like the one on his other sword. On the bottom right side of the I is a little cannon that shoots when you pull the trigger on the handle. When someone grabs the handle, foot long round shield appear on both open ends of the handle. This weapon has no case. It just disappears when Arin wants it to.

Armor: A white overcoat that has a a big green A on it with an inch thick outline of a black octigon. This jacket tones down the power of element attacks about 1/4.

Stregths: Has the powers of Neo-Space, has good agility, very good sword skills, and has high magic power.

Weaknesses: If Arin is hit directly in the chest, he will be paralized for a few seconds from where his father tried to kill him as a child.

Also, if you hit the upper right part of his back he won't be able to move for a few seconds.

After warping, he is zapped of magic, which takes a long time to regain.

Arin can't move very fast while he's bending elements, so that usually makes him an open target.

Skills/Magic: Arin is unique. He was brought up by Neo-Spacians.
Sword Skills

Charging Bull: Rapidly stabs person.
Phionix Flame: Blade explodes into flames.
Raising Phionix: Slashs ground to bring an icy flame up.

Magic

Has Neo-Space powers of:
Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Lightning, Ice, and Metal.

Able to bend any of those elements to his will. When he does, he can't move them really fast. The faster he moves them, the faster his magic is burned up.

With Neo-Space, Arin can also bend ripples in time to warp from place to place, but it take it's toll on his magic. He would need at least a day to get all his magic back after using it.

Apperence: Blue hair. Think of the style of Hinata's hair from Naruto.

Arin has eyes like people from anime have.

Has a black tank-top on that is tucked into his pants. He usually has a white overcoat that has a big green A on it with an inch thick outline of a black octigon. The jacket is always unbuttoned.

Has white pants with a black belt on. His shoes basically look like triangle feet.

Personality: Always kind to others by defending them while their in trouble. Brave. Uses scarcasm. Outgoing by doing things he doesn't need to. Tactical. Thinks before he does stuff. Unpredictable.

Biography: Arin was born on the outskirts of a town named Marith. Arin's mother died delivering him. He was one of two twins. The other twin, Knight, was taken in by his father, who sensed hatered in him. Arin was almost killed by his father because of his pure soul. Arin's father stabbed him in the chest by his heart, wanting him to die. He was left to wither after his father thought he was dead. A few hours after Knight and his dad left, strangers entering the town found him. They brought him to a medical center in that town. They found that Arin was surprisingly still alive. He was put up for aboption after he was healed.

A couple years later, a strange panther-like creature kidnapped him. The panther was sent to bring him to another place. He was taken to another dimention, Neo-Space. It turned out that Arin was a rare person, to have a pure soul, which allowed him to control Neo-Space. Arin was brought up in this dimention learning how to learn Neo-Space techniques. At the age of 20, Arin set out on his own.

Arin went out in search of someone to teach him how to use a sword. After a couple days of searching, he found a teacher, Piaka, to teach him. He spent a year learning how to perfect his sword skills. He eventually found a way to combind his powers with his sword skills.

One year after, Arin had a dream of his birth, finding out he had a brother. He decided to search for his long lost brother. Within a few months of looking, he found Knight. He only trailed him because Knight looked like the unfriendly type. In a so-called final effort against a wizard named Haven, Knight was about to die at the hands of the wizard. Arin couldn't let Knight die. He rushed out and saved Knight. The resistance had to retreat. Knight was wondering who he was. Arin told Knight about all that had happened in his life. Knight then told Arin about Haven and their dad. Knight let Arin join the resistence with him. Now that Arin and Knight were both working with the resistance, they swore that Haven would die.

Name: Xeeros

Age: 28

Race: Dwarf

Sex: Male

Hair: Brown, layered, shoulder length hair. Also has a beard that covers his upper lip, as well as his chin.

Eyes: Brown

Weight: Approximately 192 lbs.

Height: 4'11 (Dwarves are short )

Weaponry: A polished Composite bow that he likes to call Heartpiercer, which shoots arrows at a very high velocity.
He also has a 1-handed sword for when his enemies get into melee range. It is a very sharp double-edged sword that is about 3 feet long. The hilt has a ram skull carved into the metal, and the eye sockets are filled by blood diamonds. Two demonic looking wings spread out from the ram skull. The grip is wrapped in black leather, and the hilt is gray. He sheathes it inside his undercoat.

Armor: A black overcoat (think Matrix), as well as black leather leggings, boots, and a tunic. His overcoat is always unbuttoned. He wears a black hood that shadows his face most of the time. When he is sneaking, his boots barely make a sound.

Strengths: Xeeros is a very powerful archer, as well as a very skilled sneak. He is also very agile. He has very good eyes, as well as ears.

Weaknesses: Xeeros becomes petrified at the thought of melee combat. He can still fight, but his reflexes are greatly delayed. He also has a bad shoulder, and if the enemies hit him there he will fall over in pain, holding his arm as if it were no longer there.

Skills/Magic: Xeeros can make bandages out of most cloths, and because of his lifestyle knows the forests plants, which allows him to mend his injuries.

Appearance: Xeeros has a tan, and is very muscular. His arms and legs are made of sinewy, but at the same time they do not bulge enough to slow or in anyway hinder his movement.. His arms have been strengthened because of the constant pull of the bow, and his legs because of his constant movement.

Personality: Xeeros is rash, and often acts on impulse. He doesn't trust people he doesn't know, and he is very hard to understand unless you know his ways. He is cold, cruel, and relentless towards his enemies, and enjoys making them suffer. Once you earn his trust, he is a very trustworthy man, and would not share his friends secrets even if his life threatened. He is a very good friend once you have earned the "right" to be one.

Biography: Xeeros was born into the village of Rahk. He never knew his mother, for she was killed in a bandit raid when he was very little. Xeeros has thus been raised by his father, who has taught him the art of combat.

Xeeros was most gifted at archery, and thus spent 20 or so years of his life developing that skill. His father tried to teach him the art of the sword, but he refused to pick the blade up until he was age 20, and the delay on the training of that skill has caused him to develop an unnatural paranoia of melee combat.

The night before he left on his journey, he had a dream of the night that the bandits raided, burned, and pillaged most of the village. This was the first incident that reminded him of his hell, the incident that killed his mother. He didn't even remember the incident, but here it was, staring him in the face. He saw his mother murdered in front of him, he was running, trying to reach her... but he wasn't even moving. There was nothing he could do. The image started fading.. and with his last bit of energy he tried to hold on.. just long enough to see his mothers killer. But he didn't have to. He suddenly found himself in a white, boxed-in room. Him and his mothers killer were staring each other down. They engaged in combat, but in the end his efforts were in vain. The bandit struck his shoulder, and from this one night on, any time he strained himself to hard he would get a knifing pain through his shoulder. He couldn't keep up his daily routine, now having to shorten it significantly in order to keep the pain at bay. Through the years, the pain became more like a dull throbbing, and only seriously hurt him when he was hit there.

He awoke in a cold sweat. He heard screams but he thought it was just fragments of his dream holding on. But he was wrong. His father burst through his door, and gave Xeeros what was supposed to be his parting gift. A handcarved pipe, with a big X at the end. He noticed an arrow protruding from his fathers arm, but his father told him to take the family horse, Shade, and run. He ran into the kitchen, grabbed enough supplies for a week and followed his fathers orders. As he rode off into the woods, he couldn't help but look back. He couldn't believe it. The peaceful village he had known all his life was burning to the ground. And he knew that this time there wouldn't be any survivors. The sight was painful, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from it. This was really happening to him. He rode for a little longer before his emotions exploded. He set up camp for the night, and lay on the ground, crying.

He vowed to kill the group of bandits that called themselves the Bloodskulls. As long as there was breath in his lungs and blood flowing through his veins, they would die. Not all at once, for that would be impossible. But slowly, he would kill them off, one by one.

P.S. Hope you don't find his Strengths too overpowering.. they are all qualities of a good Marksman and without them he'd be fighting in melee alot, which is his greatest weakness.